


All This and More

by cognomen



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, M/M, Multi, PWP, Pure Porn, Threesome - M/M/M, in situ start point, nothing else, the vaguest of explanations as to how they got there, this is really self indulgent sorry not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: Purely double penetration smut, and literally nothing else.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III/Zenigata Kouichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	All This and More

Lupin’s usually the one setting the pace in bed, because he’s always demanding—in a hurry to  _ get _ somewhere and that usually suits Jigen just fine. He doesn’t mind when it pinches a little, when Lupin makes a bare effort with the lube and lets gravity and persistence do the rest. Maybe it’s psychological; so his dick seems bigger or whatever. Jigen doesn’t care except it seems like a damn waste to let Zenigata sit there and  _ watch _ them after all the trouble and convincing it took to get him into this on a semi-regular basis in the first place.

( _ “You wouldn’t arrest a man in the middle of sex, would you?” Like the old ‘you-wouldn’t-hit-a-man-in-glasses’ gag. _

_ “No, but I will when you put your pants on!”) _

“Hey, Jigen,” Lupin says, breathy against his ear to drag his attention back. He has his hands planted between Jigen’s shoulders to push his chest into the mattress and his back into an arch. Jigen rolls an eye back to glance over his shoulder at Lupin and finds him staring Zenigata in the eyes. He follows his gaze to Pops flat against the headboard, transfixed and watching. “You think you could do both?”

It’s like a playground dare, but hits that same chord of ‘fuck you of course I can’ intermixed with deep hunger that it always does in Jigen. He only lets his gaze drop to the girthy bulge in Zenigata’s boxers for a second before he gives the nod.

“C’mere,” Lupin orders, still grinding his hips in slow, heavy thrusts—one thing about him, he can divide his attention perfectly, the bastard. 

Zenigata obeys, eager and earnest in this, too, and damn if that’s not way more endearing in bed than it is when he’s tracking them down on a heist. Jigen lets his eyes close, feels the way the mattress dips and shifts under his knees. Lupin shifts his weight off Jigen’s back and stops moving. 

Jigen breathes deeply, feeling the heat under his skin like electricity, all livewire current and anticipation, then there’s the brief, confused sensation of Lupin and Zenigata’s joined hands on the small of his back, sliding down until he can feel the broad swipe of Zenigata’s big fingers against where Lupin is penetrating him.

It takes some doing, Jigen clawing up the blankets under him as he bears down—Lupin grunting, muffled—then relaxes so a slick finger—huge, big almost to splitting already—can work in alongside Lupin’s cock, sliding deep once the initial resistance gives in.

Zenigata makes a surprised wound, so Jigen groans encouragement, figuring this is going to take another negotiation. He rubs his face on the sheets, feeling the weave catch against his beard for a sensation to distract from ‘too-much-overwhelming’ while his body gives and adjusts, ready to surrender. They’ve done this before—Lupin, Goemon and he, or sometimes when Jigen’s drunk enough, Lupin and Fujiko and her industrial strap-on. Zenigata poses a new girth-related challenge that should not turn Jigen on as much as it does.

“What?” Zenigata’s voice is deeper than Lupin’s murmurs, and it drags Jigen out of the narrow-focused intensity it takes to stay intact with two fingers and Lupin’s dick stretching him open and pressing for depth.

“We’re both going to get in there,” Lupin says, ineloquently. He must be repeating himself because Jigen’s got fingers so far up his ass that it drives a grunt out of him when Zenigata processes what that means and goes tense.

“We’ll hurt him,” Zenigata starts, and Jigen voices his own visceral response automatically, like the fingers on his prostate and the weight of Lupin’s cock holding it there has short-circuited his brain directly to his mouth.

“Nuh,” —it’s not the most articulate exclamation, but it does the job of expressing his vehement conviction. “I can take it.”

“See?” Lupin takes over the explanation from there and Jigen can almost  _ feel _ the way he’s grinning through their bodily contact. “You have to trust a guy when he says that.”

“We better take it slow,” Zenigata sounds a little less hesitant at that, but still cautious. 

“Sure,” Lupin says, but another finger is already pressing for entrance, prying and working. A collaboration of determination and Jigen gritting his teeth at the almost-too-slick slide tracing against his already tightly-stretched entrance. 

Jigen feels the moment his body gives an inch and he lets his breath out with a groan that feels as heavy as the weight on his insides, the moment where his own instincts for resistance melt away into the sting of give, and then his guts have to make room. His patience already feels thin in the first few uncoordinated thrusts, somebody’s finger hooked down as Lupin gives a few slow drives of his hips and whatever’s happening must be good for all of them because he can hear them making sounds that almost drown his own out. He can’t really process any more than that.

They move until the slide is easy, until Jigen’s out of his mind except for the effort of keeping his knees under him. Slow, but insistent. He’s just getting into the rhythm when Lupin stops, and Jigen has to get two big handfuls of the blankets not to snap at him in irritation. 

Lupin gives him a reassuring, lube-cold slap in the small of his back, and Jigen really growls then.

“Are you gonna take all day?”

“If that’s how long it takes,” Lupin answers, smug-breathless. “It’ll be easier to do this the other way though.”

Getting ready for ‘the other way’ is a whole process that involves fingers and dick evacuating his ass. Jigen lets them do most of the work of manhandling him onto his front.

“Help me get him up into my lap,” Lupin instructs, and then it just—happens. Zenigata’s hands, leaving damp smears in places, brace up on Jigen’s back and just ease him into place with an effortless motion that makes his insides liquid and hot, ready for something a little rougher. His knees splay over Lupin’s lap, and Lupin’s hands come up under his arms, below Zenigata’s on his shoulder blades and easing him against his chest. Jigen breathes out, lets the lingering tension out of his body and shifts his hips, tips his chin over Lupin’s shoulder and hangs on.

“You better go first,” Lupin tells Zenigata.

There’s a hesitant pause that has Jigen cracking one eye open and bracing himself up a little to look back at Pops and take in the moment where the math goes through his mind. Then he rolls his shoulder up, and adds, “He’s right. You’re bigger.”

“I take exception to that,” Lupin says, playfully tart.

“Even you can’t deny the truth when it’s right in front of you,” Jigen says. 

“We could measure!”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t hurry up.”

Lupin shrugs and it shifts Jigen enough to reach for Zenigata, who finally seems on board with the idea. When he settles in at Jigen’s back, he looms over both of them, and it’s frustratingly hot. Jigen bites his lip to keep any stupid noises in check, and then eases up higher on his knees because there’s a solid difference in the height of Zenigata’s thighs even kneeling.

“You want me to stretch you again?” Zenigata asks, maddeningly kind and hesitant.

Jigen shoves his hips back. “No, get your hand on there and hold steady or I’ll do it my damned self.”

There’s no further protest, just the battering ram of Zenigata’s dick guided gently into place where Jigen needs it, and if he shoves harder than he would normally it’s to keep his body from finishing the job of unstretching it’s been doing while they’ve been having a goddamn conversation. It stings, but it fits, it  _ fits _ , and Jigen grunts, refusing to relent until Zenigata has to move his hand out of the way and let him take the whole length to the hilt. He’s almost comically slick with lube and Jigen can feel it sliding in slow drips along the underside of his balls, now body-warm and ticklish and it’s a little like someone’s suckerpunched him in the best way.

Zenigata, satisfyingly, shuts up, getting his big hands on Jigen’s hips like he’s afraid this is all going to come undone. It might  _ just _ , because despite his body’s usual response to so much stimulation Jigen’s dick is rock hard and jabbing Lupin’s belly somewhere, and he doubts this is going to last much longer no matter how many cool-offs they give him. 

“See?” Lupin says, but he sounds breathless just over Jigen’s shoulder. 

There’s no answer but something wordless, and Lupin pushes Jigen back against Zenigata’s chest until Zenigata wraps one arm around his chest on the diagonal, encompassing Jigen from left ribs to right shoulder and holding him there effortlessly while Lupin works to get into place.

“Boy it would help if you weren’t quite so tall,” Lupin says. 

His thighs will probably be burning by the end of it.  _ Good _ . It was his damn idea. Jigen lets his head sag back and stares at the ceiling, trying not to be aware of Zenigata’s warm breath right against the side of his neck in rapid pace as Lupin figures out some ridiculous monkey-kama-sutra position to get his dick into place and starts pushing. There’s definitely a long moment where it feels impossible; like Lupin’s not going to make any headway with Zenigata’s huge dick already there, but then he hooks a rude finger in and pries up until he finds enough give while Jigen’s gasping and swallowing, and makes enough space to get the head of his dick in.

They all freeze for a moment, except for Jigen panting like some kind of idiot, swallowing around the feeling like it’s something in his mouth instead of his ass, working his tongue against the roof of his mouth so it won’t feel so dry, so there’s some stimulation on some part of himself to distract from the sensation of being nearly split at the seams (even as everything in him urges him to drive for more— _ now _ , immediately, less stopping, _ all in _ like a bad hand of poker). 

Then he claws the hand that isn’t in some kind of bear-hold over Lupin’s shoulder and yanks.

Lupin gives him a reassuring little, “yeah, yeah,” under his breath and presses forward, and the moment stretches between eternity and instant, Jigen’s breath hitching in surges like he could vacate air and make space somehow. He can feel more than hear Zenigata groaning into it, too, and hopes nobody has any sudden regrets because he is  _ there _ he is in the  _ zone _ where his brain is filtering out audio-visual input to make space for the simultaneous firing of every nerve ending in his body even as Lupin’s dick squeezes against his prostate and rubs because there’s  _ nowhere else for it to be _ .

Predictably it doesn’t last long, too tight, too much friction, too much  _ everything _ , and Jigen loses it two thrusts in while Zenigata just holds steady because probably his brain is fried from the feelings just as much as Jigen's is. He’s been on the other end of this on occasion and it’s not exactly a first-time-friendly thing for your stamina. Jigen ejaculates what feels like a quart in slow, nonstop pulses that Lupin seems to be driving out of him between their bodies, gasping when it doesn’t seem to want to stop. He’s still there when Lupin jams his hips forward and stops, dropping over his own edge.

He drops down into the star-streaked tingle of aftermath with one grip on Lupin’s shoulder white-knuckle tight and the feeling of his fingernails sunk into skin as Zenigata gives a couple of almost-timid pushes of his hips, and that huge dick moving is like a shift in tectonic plates all of a sudden, driving grunts out of Jigen in a helpless response. Everything is a sticky mess when they’re done, running in places Jigen doesn’t really want to think about, some intermixed runnel of cum and lube finally tickling down the inside of his thigh in a way that’s just annoying enough to drag him back up from just dozing like this despite how stiff and wrecked that would leave him. 

“Boy,” Lupin sighs, starry-eyed and soft-voiced. “I need a—”

“Yeah,” Jigen grunts an agreement. He tags out, slapping gently at Zenigata’s arm where it’s still locked around his chest, and getting disengaged is a goddamn  _ ordeal _ , a real  _ mess _ , but he doesn’t give a shit. He wants nicotine to mellow the sharp pleasure in his blood so it doesn’t start to feel like romance. “I need a cigarette, a piss, and a washcloth.”

Lupin grins at him, but Zenigata’s the one who finds him a cigarette, and Jigen decides in that instant that probably they should do their best to hang onto this arrangement for as long as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> This may eventually fit into some larger continuity since I have some ideas that this sort of fits in with but I mostly wrote it to indulge myself.


End file.
